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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29946507">Contact</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ribby/pseuds/Ribby'>Ribby</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Lord of the Rings RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2003-04-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2003-04-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:14:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>248</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29946507</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ribby/pseuds/Ribby</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The line between fiction and reality is so easily blurred</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>SB/VM</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Contact</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This started off life as a double drabble...but somehow it became a ficlet when the boys wouldn't shut up.</p>
<p>Thanks to <span class="ljuser i-ljuser i-ljuser-type-P"></span><a class="i-ljuser-profile" href="https://lannamichaels.livejournal.com/profile"></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="https://lannamichaels.livejournal.com/"></a><b>lannamichaels</b> for quick and helpful beta.<br/></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>1. Moria</p>
<p>Aragorn watches in horror as the cave troll swipes at Boromir like a cat with a mouse, sending him flying into the wall with an audible thud. He can spare only a moment,  fighting with half his attention--but a moment is enough, and Boromir pulls himself to his feet.</p>
<p>Boromir shakes his head to settle the ringing in his skull, then catches his captain's eye-quickly, and only once, but enough. Aragorn nods, shortly. He is well enough, if not truly well, and when all this is done, there will be healing needed...and Boromir throws himself back into the fray.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>2. New Zealand</p>
<p>They'd done several takes, and although Sean wasn't the one flung into that wall for every take, they needed a few to establish his facial reaction. And even foam rock hurts after the fifth time.</p>
<p>Viggo hisses in sympathy when Sean eases Boromir's tunic off--his side and one half of his back is black and blue from bruising. And though he's out of costume completely, Aragorn hasn't left him yet--"the hands of a king are the hands of a healer," he mutters under his breath.  Sean hears him, and turns, slowly, "What're you muttering about?" Viggo repeats it, louder, and slowly, gently, traces the bruises.</p>
<p>And perhaps the hands of a king are the hands of a healer after all--for when Viggo touches him, the world and the pain it carries fades away...and he is whole once more.</p>
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